The Family Man
by paperspiral
Summary: Sabretooth/OC. Victor and Emma visit a specialist in the hope of bringing a child to term and starting a family.  While my Victor/Emma stories don't proceed on a timeline, if you want to read them in written order this is story 3.
1. Chapter 1

**Sabretooth belong to Marvel, all others are of my own creation.**

**Reviews and constructive criticism welcome.**

Creed leaned into the wall with his ear flush against the paper. He could hear the beating of two hearts. Calm. His targets were asleep in the adjacent motel room. The smell of old cigarette smoke permeating from the walls, the rug, the furniture, tickled his nose as he pushed back and turned to lean against the wall. He folded his thick arms over his chest and frowned to himself while he thought.

What rich scumbag would stay in a dive like this place? They hadn't picked up any street walkers or drugs, there didn't seem to be any dirty deals being cut…in fact, it really did feel like Mr. and Mrs. Joe Blow were just taking a cheap cross country trip for the summer. He hadn't liked the set up of this job since he got off the plane. Everything about it was fishy and his intuition wouldn't let him rest easily.

Emma folded down the corner of her magazine to watch him from the queen bed they would be sharing that night. They had been tailing the other couple for a week now, rather Emma would follow them during the day and at night Creed would meet her in whatever dump they stopped at for the night. She was sporting a healthy tan on her face and shoulders, a bit of a burnt spot in her nose, and her freckles were standing out from all the sun exposure. She was still grumpy from having been stuck wandering the Grand Canyon for three hours while the sight-seeing couple took their ever-loving time taking photos that would inevitably be awful on their old Fujifilm camera. Emma had called him once back in her car to vent at him while he sat in a diner eating greasy eggs, waiting for the next check point to drive to.

They were both sick of this chase, if it could even be called that. But the client had been very specific that sometime this week, Mr. and Mrs. Roadtrip would visit Nevada and that's where they had to be killed. In fact an extra ten grand required it. This confused Creed because there was little chance of his targets escaping his pursuit, in fact, they appeared to be completely oblivious to being followed. He was easy to pick out in a crowd, any idiot would have been able to tell Creed was following them, but after the last week, he wasn't so sure about these two.

"What?" He snarled at her, frustrated. He was still conscious of the fact that his left eye was black and yellow while he right eye had its normal green iris. He knew it was freakish and unnerving, and normally he wouldn't care, but she was his wife, he was afraid of seeing disgust when she looked at him and the heartbreak it would cause him.

"I was thinking of grabbing some dinner. Hungry?" Emma lifted herself off the bed and went to her purse, then moved the curtains aside and peered out the window to search for the nearest restaurants. Creed grunted in response. "What would you like?"

"Meat." He turned back to the wall to check that everyone he left sleeping were still doing so.

"Looks like your choices are a gas station, The Sub Hut, and a donut place." She turned back to him only half expecting a response. "I'll see what I can do."

The door clicked softly behind her and now alone, Creed decided to take a shower to wash the day's heat and grime from his skin. They would switch shifts tomorrow and while he tailed the targets, he would make Emma find a Laundromat and a flipping grocery store so he could have some semblance of vegetables to eat that night.

The water ran cold before a whine from the pipes began to heat up the shower. He let it hit him right in the face before running his hands through his hair and fumbled for the teeny bar of soap allotted to each room. The water pressure was weak and provided nothing more than a general sprinkling. Creed found himself missing his own shower at home and realized with a hint of disappointment that he had turned into a creature of comfort.

As he washed under his arms, a nerve-wracking high pitched noise caused him to cover his ears. Someone was cutting glass. The noise stopped and he heard the click of the door being unlocked and opened slowly. Creed had about one full minute to make a decision. Leaving the shower on, he grabbed a towel to give himself a quick once over. He chucked it away into the running shower then deliberately walked avoiding being in front of the crack under the bathroom door, where the intruders would see his shadow.

This was not the first cramped and awkwardly designed motel room he had found himself in during his lifetime. Behind the bathroom door was a tiny closet with a few dented shutters. It was mostly silent as he pushed the gate aside and crammed himself inside next to the ironing board. Sitting on his haunches, he watched through the slits off the closet door with his fingers interlaced, waiting.

The bathroom door opened a crack, pulling the shower steam from the room. A finger appeared and turned out the lights. These clowns didn't know who he was. They were amateurs at best, he noted, when the door kicked back and the two men in ski masks barged into the room and raised shotguns at the shower stall, which they would have known was empty if they had looked into the mirror when entering. Three shots fired, some screams from outside wafted in.

The first jerk ran off after firing but the second one stayed around long enough to notice they had only managed to blow holes into the ceramic tiles on the wall. A car screeched loudly outside and a heavy thud followed by more screaming.

Only mildly shaken by the circumstances, the guy toting the shotgun took a look around the room. Noticing the closet, he closed the bathroom door slightly to access it. Unfortunately for him, Creed took that moment to fly from his hiding spot and slammed both fists up catching the guy's chin and knocking him back and unconscious into the toilet bowl. He took a step forward only to realize that many hotel patrons were peering at him, naked, from the parking lot, his front door wide open.

Emma ran in and scooped up his discarded jeans, throwing them at him and grabbing his arm, pulling him to the car. They grabbed their bags, always left packed for such instances and threw themselves into the car Creed had been driving last, the crowd parting for them.

"What was that?" She yelled over the sound of the crappy engine and the wind whipping through the open windows. He forced his legs into his jeans and squirmed to get them done up. Emma swore and ducked as he came close to elbowing her in the face.

"That, my dear, was an ambush." He grumped and pulled his dirty t-shirt over his head.

"It took them a week to ambush us?" Emma was still yelling out of anger.

"Did ya _see_ the quality of them mercs?"

"Yeah, his blood ran yellow when I hit one of them with the other car."

They both calmed down over the next 10 miles and began debating whether they should stop for coffee and donuts or a gas station for soda and chips. Donuts won out. They didn't feel inclined to lay low after the attack back at the motel since they had both left their victims alive, and pulled into the next available Dunkin' Donuts. It was rather busy for 11pm. Creed had made sure to wear his sunglasses in to avoid the stares and identification.

Emma slouched down in one of the plastic seats with her chocolate milk and her box of donut holes while he slid in across from her with a huge coffee and a box of a dozen donuts proper. He perched his sunglasses on his head while they stared at the car out the window for a moment before beginning to eat. The locals were watching them over their own cups, but only out of mild interest.

"I have an appointment in New York next week. Did you want to come with me?" She popped a sugary piece of fried batter into her mouth and chewed softly.

Creed stared at her, trying to make sense of her question, looking for previously relayed information he must have forgotten. He found none. "English please?"

"I made an appointment with a fertility specialist in New York for next week. Did you want to fly out with me?"

"Yer fertile, Myrtle." He didn't mind digging for answers when he was in calm mood, and he was right on the cusp. Luckily for her, he was leaning away from irritation and fell back into the quiet moment.

"Well it's a little more involved than that. She specializes in pregnancies among mutants whose powers directly interfere with having a child."

"Like your healing factor." Creed nodded and started his fifth donut. He wished he had his cigarettes on him. "New York, huh? A little too close to the X-geeks for my likin'." He scratched his chin.

Emma swirled her milk and turned to look out the window again, running her fingers through her dark hair.

"Wait." Victor sat up in his seat. "You wanna have a baby?"

"Noooo," she corrected. "I want to have _your_ baby."


	2. Chapter 2

**Sabretooth belong to Marvel, all others are of my own creation.**

**Reviews and constructive criticism welcome.**

Emma sat quietly impatient in the doctor's office as minutes passed by her appointment time. She hadn't touched the parenting magazine sitting in her lap in the last 20 minutes. The useless tidbits on how to get your toddler to eat their vegetables seemed irrelevant to her at the moment. She finally threw the magazine back on to the low table with the rest of them.

Creed was pacing the hallway outside the glass office door. She would occasionally catch a glimpse of him stalking past with a scowl on his face. If there was anything he hated more than doctors, it was waiting. It had been difficult to get him to join her for the actual appointment, as far as he was concerned, the 'baby-makin' stuff' as he so eloquently put it, was her problem, not his.

The waiting room was empty save for the receptionist at the desk. She listened to the clock tick across the small waiting room while regarding the plants, which were plastic and needed a dusting. Finally the office door knob turned and a young mutant stepped out holding her swollen belly over a pink sundress, grinning happily. The doctor held up a finger to Emma to indicate she would need just another minute, so while the young woman approached the counter to make her next appointment, Emma stood up and tapped on the glass of the door to call Victor back in.

He looked pissed off but didn't say a word as he came in to wait beside her. Finally alone, she leaned over next to him and whispered about lunch plans until the door finally opened a second time and the woman in a suit and white lab coat emerged with a smile and an out stretched hand.

"You must be Mr. and Mrs. Creed." Her accent was noticeable, possibly East Indian. She was smaller than both Emma and Victor but her presence was strong. Emma shook her hand but he just grunted at the doctor. "I'm Dr. Ari Patel, please, come have a seat in my office."

The door was shut behind them and while the Creeds took a seat, Patel moved around her desk and sat grabbed a thin file. "Would you like something to drink? Tea perhaps?"

"No, thank you." Emma answered for the both of them.

"So it says here that you have been married for…fifty-eight years?" Patel glanced up in surprise but continued. "And have had seven miscarriages." She closed the file to look at them both. "I know we talking about this on the phone, but I would like to do some blood work on the both of you as well as some other tests. It may be more than just your healing factors contributing to your inability to carry a child to term."

"Both of us?" Creed raised an arched eyebrow.

"Mr. Creed, I suspect your healing factor may also be complicating the matter. I have encountered at least one instance where some of the man's sperm was attacking the woman's egg causing fertilization _and_ a miscarriage within hours of each other. It's highly uncommon but I would like to be safe."

Victor ran his tongue over his teeth, glaring at the other woman. Emma could see his jaw clench. "Fine." Finally came the growl and Emma let out a breath she didn't know she was holding.

"Lovely. Before we begin I would like to explain how we can make this possible, it may turn out that it is asking too much." Dr. Patel grabbed some brochures from behind her desk and laid them out in front of each of them. "Now the testing is necessary for research purposes as well as specifying your particular treatment dosage, but the treatment itself is the same for everyone – at least at this point."

"How long have you been doing this, Doc?" Interrupted Victor. He was particularly edgy around the words 'research' and 'testing' when it came to his person and bodily fluids.

"I have been practicing for three years in this country." He thought about this then motioned for her to continue. "The treatment is a series of shots. You will have to come back in two weeks time once we get the results of your blood work, and depending on how it went, we will begin your first round of shots. It may be just Emma or it could be both of you requiring the treatment. During that appointment we will teach you how to give yourself the needle and you will have to continue to dose yourself for your entire pregnancy, once a day. You will have to commit to weekly visits with me until the second month of pregnancy, when the appointments will be reduced to once a month. Generally I see you a bit more often in your last month of pregnancy but every situation is different. Of course, you will also have to see your OB regularly as with any pregnancy."

"What's the success rate?" Emma was the one to interrupt this time.

"Ninety-three percent."

"Seven percent of how many?" Creed's green eye went white as his hackles went up.

"We have had 23 pregnancies end in still-birth or miscarriage. We have had 335 clients so far." Ari raised her chin and spoke plainly, holding her ground in the face of his threat.

"What about the health of the mother?" Emma placed a hand on his forearm reassuringly.

"There was one unforeseen complication where the mother delivered her baby but her womb did not firm up after delivery and she bled out. This had nothing to do with the treatment." The doctor waved a hand trying to minimize the information.

"You speculate." Creed growled at her. Patel was silent.

"I will leave all of these consent forms with you and excuse myself while the both of you discuss things. Or would you rather take them home with you and make an appointment later on?"

Emma murmured that they would need a few minute to talk it over if the doctor would excuse them. Ari nodded and shut the door of her office behind her as she left.

She looked at the consent forms slowly but Victor sat in a mood in the chair beside her, ignoring the papers altogether. "Let's steal somethin'." He broke the silence, playing with a hippopotamus statuette on the desk.

"Victor, this is all up to you. What do you want?" Lowering the papers she looked at him.

"Well if you want a kid so bad…"

"This isn't about me," Emma slammed the papers down and turned in her seat towards him. "This is about _us_. Do you want a child or don't you? I can't tell – when we do talk about you it become disinterested and cranky but when I'm pregnant you start beaming like you've made the most beautiful thing in the world."

Creed quietly put the hippo down and straightened up in his chair. He brought his clawed hands to his face then pushed them back through his blond hair and took a deep breath. He hunched forward and looked at his hands, now interlaced in between his knees. Emma watched him break his hands apart as though he was holding a small child in them and she couldn't help but wonder what was happening in his mind.

"Yes." He finally said.

"Yes?" This was not an answer to the question she had just asked him.

"Just gimme the damn pen." Victor grabbed a pen from her fingers and signed his name to the consent forms hurriedly as though he would change his mind at any moment.

She couldn't help but throw herself into his arms then, which caught him by surprise. "Thank you, thank you!" She cried into his shirt and laughed with a joy she hadn't felt in years. Creed patted her gently and awkwardly but when she looked up, she found a smile on his face as big as her own.

After a few more minutes, Emma added her name to his on the sheets and they exited to office to find Dr. Patel sitting in chairs with a mug of tea. "All set then? Let's make our way down the hall for the blood work portion." The doctor was smiling knowingly which made her think that Ari may have a mutant gift of her own that went unmentioned.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sabretooth belong to Marvel, all others are of my own creation.**

Reviews and constructive criticism welcome. 

Creed glared at the plastic jar he had just been handed by Patel. They had finished taking vials of blood from him and now it was Emma's turn. She sat still smiling in the chair with the sleeve of her sweater pulled up. She was trying not to laugh at him.

"You want me to what?" He snarled at the small doctor.

"We need a sperm sample please, Mr. Creed. There are magazines in the men's room at the end of the hall here. It should give you some privacy." She remained straight-faced while repeating her instructions. He looked back down at the cup and then back to Emma, who finally burst out laughing at him, which only made him cross.

He bent down in front of his wife and roared into her face. "Somethin' funny?" This didn't have the effect he was going for as she managed to laugh harder, her eyes tearing up. Finally it subsided into giggling behind her hand. She continued to watch him until she was able to control herself and cupped his face in her hands.

"I'm sorry. You had the most disgusted look on your face, I couldn't help it." Emma tried to kiss his nose but he pulled away from her and left the room, glaring at her from over his shoulder as he made his way down the hall to the bathroom.

It smelled like men and bleach. Placing the jar on the sink counter, he sat his heavy frame on the toilet seat and looked at the selection of magazines in front of him. Front and centre was a magazine for men of men. He wondered if the staff had deliberately placed the gay men's magazine there or if whoever had been in here last had been using it. He continued to search and found a vast majority to be pristine copies of Maxim. This told him two things: That whoever shopped for these skin mags was of delicate sensitivities, and that if a guy is going to whack off to a magazine, it wasn't going to be Maxim. He didn't want to touch the one well-loved copy of what was clearly something harder.

Creed got up and went back to where Emma and the doctor were discussing the treatment further. Without missing a beat, Patel said, "It might be more helpful if your wife joins you. She's all done in here, I have some paperwork to fill out." With that, the doctor turned her back to him and Victor realized she wasn't being rude so much as she was trying to give him as much privacy as she could afford in light of the delicate situation. Emma stood while rolling her sleeve down and clasped her hand in his, walking with him back to the men's room.

"Maxim, huh?" Even she was disappointed in the selection. She picked up one of the magazines from the rack by a corner, then dropped it back down while Victor put the cup back on the edge of the sink and undid his zipper.

"Can we just get this show on the road?" He pushed his slacks down a few inches to hang on his hips and moved his underwear aside to free himself. She shrugged and sat down on the toilet much like he had only minutes earlier. He stood in front of her and braced himself against the wall and sink counter while Emma unscrewed the lid of the jar and put it within reach.

Her tongue darted out and licked the underside of his dick from base to tip slowly, awakening him to a full erection. Content, she began to suck and stroke and her hands moved up his thighs to find the soft skin of his sac. He had never doubted that she knew how to please him but now in this situation, she proved it once again, and he found himself pushing himself deeper into her mouth and throat, gently. He could feel her getting excited herself as she pressed her thighs together and fidgeted against him, making little mewling noises.

He grabbed a handful of her hair and started moving her head to the rhythm that was going to make him cum, which she complied with willingly. "Cup! Cup! Cup!" He gasped breathlessly, pulling out of her hot, wet mouth and aiming. Most of it landed in the jar, but a good shot landed in Emma's face. She blinked in a bit of shock.

Creed took a few more deep breaths waiting for the shaking to subside when Emma said, "You got it on my sweater." She was pulling her shirt away from her to look at the drops.

"I'll buy you a new one." He turned on the tap, still waiting to come down.

"Move." She gently pushed him out of the way with her hip and began to wash her hands and face. "Can you get me a towel please?" Her blind hand reached out, he obliged.

As he washed himself off in the sink, Emma looked at the contents of the jar. Creed watched her in the mirror. "Crap." He banged on the paper towel dispenser but it was empty. Resigned to wet underwear, he zipped up and grabbed the jar from his wife and opened the door to the hallway. She followed, lacing her fingers in with his.

Ari rose to greet them again back in the room where their blood had been taken and took the cup from Creed and labeled it with identifying numbers. "Well," she said, "that's all for today. We will run the necessary tests and contact you within two weeks to make your next appointment. It was a pleasure meeting you both today." They all walked slowly towards the outside door and just as he was holding the door open for Emma, Patel said, "Oh and I would get enough of each other right now as you will have to abstain for 14 days once the initial treatment commences." Ari winked at them both and went back to her office, leaving them.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sabretooth and Birdy belong to Marvel, all others are of my own creation.**

**Reviews and constructive criticism welcome.**

Victor hadn't bothered to wear pants the last three days, which startled the maid who was tasked with cleaning his New York apartment once a month. He was an infrequent resident and often leant out the flat to Birdy or Emma when they wanted to get away from Vancouver, or more accurately, him. The maid had shrieked and lifted the pine scented rag up to her face while Creed stood there, slightly amused, eating an apple while leaning against the kitchen counter. Emma was forced to get out of bed and find a terry cloth robe and calm her down before escorting her out and locking the door behind the maid.

Emma let out a breath and leaned up against the closed door, frowning at him. "That was unnecessary." She admonished.

"That's an ugly robe." He took another bite of his apple and chewed slowly.

"Not mine." She stretched and undid the belt, slipping it off her bare shoulders and tossing it on the back of one of the chairs in the living room.

"Birdy's maybe?" He grunted.

"Or one of your whores." Emma muttered and left the room.

"Hey – get yer ass back in here."

"I'm sore, I'm taking a bath." Was her reply over her shoulder. Creed tossed the apple into the trash and followed swiftly, reaching out and shoving her against the bathroom wall by her throat, lifting her up so her toes barely graced the tiles of the floor.

"That sounded mighty disrespectful, girl." Creed growled quietly while feeling her pulse beneath his fingertips as he squeezed.

"More or less disrespectful than you sleeping around while I wait at home for you?" Emma spat out, digging her nails into his wrist uselessly. She had found calling cards with lipstick and phone numbers scrawled on the backs left by whatever tramps her husband had picked up his last stint in town, dampening her mood significantly.

"I would hate to think yer tellin' me what I can and can't do." He squeezed tighter, forcing her to cough and wheeze under his grip. He finally let go and she dropped to the floor. Without a word, Creed pulled on pants and a shirt, grabbed his jacket and wallet and left the apartment with a slam of the door.

Emma curled up while sitting on the floor of the bathroom, absently rubbing her throat. _What a big man, threatening a woman like that_, she thought. She felt tears creeping up her very tender throat and she tried to push them back down to no avail. She felt like a belonging, not a wife. These were terrible feelings to have, especially now that they had begun the path to having a child together. _I'm not pregnant yet_.

She turned the faucet on and began drawing a warm bath. In addition to her throat, her thighs and her sit bones were sore from sex. His claws and teeth left marks that were long healed but she could still feel him on her, breathing heavily in her ear, nuzzling his nose in her hair, running his hands down her length and resting on her hips. Emma submerged herself in the water, holding her breath and letting it seep out slowly in bubbles. She was startled to see Creed standing over her and she burst through the water, only to find she was alone.

oooooooo

Victor pushed past the crowds on the street who were ambling slowly on their way back to work from their lunch hours. He turned down an alley and kicked the crap out of a stray trash can, scaring a street cat. _Fucking bitch, that fucking bitch!_ The can molded itself around his foot, causing him to slam it into the brick exterior repeatedly until if finally flew off and down the alley. The people passing watched wide eyed as they identified the commotion, but quickly continued on back to work when they saw the size of him and his temper.

Slightly appeased with the violence, Creed emerged from the alley and walked the few blocks down to his preferred sandwich joint. The little bell chimed when he walked in and he threw himself into a booth by the window. The place was empty and the waitress arrived after a minute or two. He asked for the day's special then immediately forgot what he had ordered.

Birdy had once told him, while they were both in a moment of stupor after a significantly difficult glow session, that Emma made him so mad because he loved her so much. Creed hadn't had the energy to cuff her on the mouth for the unsolicited advice about his personal life, instead he said nothing and drifted off into a nap.

His sandwich came but he was too busy staring out the window at passers-by to eat more than a few fries. Victor tried to find the rational part of himself buried deep underneath his raw, instinctive feelings. In hindsight it made him happy to know that she would be jealous of his being with other women, unfortunately hindsight never seemed to help him out and the damage was done.

Guilt crept in, quietly, unexpectedly. Though he didn't remember now, he was sure he left those calling cards in plain sight on purpose. He tried to remember the last time he had used the apartment in New York and vaguely recalled them having a fight then as well. He had probably left them to spite her. A fat lot of good it did him now, nearly seven months later. Physical scars hurt, but emotional scars were worse, he knew from experience. Birdy, in all her wisdom, had she been here, would have said he was self-destructive. Afraid of the big step that he was actively making with Emma, and he was trying to sabotage his relationship and run from responsibility.

Wait.

That was definitely not Victor's thoughts in his head. It was his voice, but not his words. Birdy was in his head. He turned to look out the window of the restaurant pointedly, angrily, and found Birdy sitting on a bus bench across the street and over his shoulder, waving. Creed snarled and crooked a finger at her to come to him. Birdy obliged hesitantly and was sitting in front of him in no time.

"What are you doin' in my head?" He asked slowly and with a glint of violence in his eyes.

Birdy focused on his green eye and replied, "You seemed troubled, I thought you might have needed a bit of a glow. Didn't realize you were having a deep think. Not like you, boss." She turned and called for a coffee as the waitress stuck her head out from the back.

Creed grabbed her by the hair and pulled her in close so his teeth were centimeters from her blue eyes, wide in fear. "I don't remember invitin' you in ta my head."

"Sorry boss, my mistake." Birdy breathed, feeling him release his grip on her blond locks.

Victor grabbed half of the sandwich he had ordered fifteen minutes ago, and began to eat. Her coffee arrived shortly afterward and they ate in silence.

oooooooo

Birdy used her key and unlocked the apartment. She couldn't feel Emma's presence at all, and Creed pushed past her picking up on the emptiness, a slight alarm going off in his eyes. Then he saw a little white card next to an ashtray full of ashes, the remnants of the calling cards. He picked up the one that was left intact and found warm pink lipstick where Emma has pressed her lips to the card, with 'Gone for groceries' written in her feminine handwriting. Creed calmed down visibly.

"I'm going to go down and use the gym, get out of your hair and all." Birdy riffled through her suitcase and found her exercise clothes. She changed and moved around him to leave, he had not budged and was still holding the card while watching the clouds outside roll in with a threat of rain. "'Kay, bye then." He didn't respond.

Creed picked up an ottoman and moved it beside the wide wall of windows on the east side of the room. He sat and watched giant droplets begin to rain down on New York. The sidewalks quickly became painted with their wetness and pedestrians scurried to find shelter.

Thunder cracked and lightening lit up the dark gray clouds when finally the door opened and Emma, wet from the rain, entered with a wet paper bag of groceries.

"Hey."

"Hey." He grunted in response. "Birdy's here."

"I guess we won't be having sex on the couch again." Emma slipped off her shoes and placed the bag on the kitchen counter so she could remove her coat.

"When has that stopped us?" Creed stood and went to help unpack.

"Touche." Emma approached him and pressed her face into his shirt, wrapping her arms around him as much as she could. Victor obliged and held her close to him.

"I'm sorry I hurt you." Emma heard him, but it took her a moment to register the apology. "In the bathroom, and uh, the other women." He was so quiet she could barely hear him.

"I'm afraid that if I have a baby, I'll lose you." She opened up while still pressed into his chest.

"Where am I goin'?" Creed stroked her hair and tried to comfort her, the hard part over for him.

"Someone else's arms." Came her mumble.

"I don't fit in anyone else's arms, doll. It's all you." He chuckled softly before hearing Birdy padding down the hallway to the apartment, too soon from the gym. She stopped, her telepathy picking up on some heavy conversation beyond the door. "It's fine Birdy, c'mon in."

Emma wiped her eyes and straightened up, reaching to put the milk away in the fridge while her husband watched her and his assistant tried to not notice the intimate situation she had just disturbed.

"I'll be in the washroom for a bit, the machines were all being used downstairs, didn't get much done." The blond babbled.

"We'll be in the bedroom, might be a while." Creed grabbed Emma by the hips and brought her to him with a nasty smile.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sabretooth and Birdy belong to Marvel, all others are of my own creation.**

Reviews and constructive criticism welcome. 

They were all staring intently at the stick Emma has just peed on minutes earlier. Dr. Patel left it sitting on the edge of the sink of the examination room and they waited in silence. If Emma was pregnant, they wouldn't be able to begin the treatment and they would have to come back six months after her miscarriage.

"Does it change colour or somethin'?" Creed asked irritably, not sure what they were waiting for.

"A plus sign means Emma's pregnant, a minus sign means we can go ahead with the treatment." Ari replied, checking her watch. She stood and picked up the stick. "It's a minus." She smiled.

Emma let out a breath and adjusted her seat. Creed tapped his claws on the back of her chair.

"I would like to talk with you about the results of your tests now. Emma, your doctor and I exchanged information, which was one of the consent forms you signed two weeks ago, her results found you fertile without any abnormalities. Victor, we tested your sperm and you are also fertile without any abnormalities…"

"I coulda told ya that." He muttered.

"…however your bloodwork leads me to believe your healing factor may be complicating Emma's pregnancies." The doctor continued as though Creed hadn't said a word.

"Wait, are you sayin' it's _my_ fault we keep losin' kids?" He jabbed a thumb into his chest as his hackles went up. Emma put a hand on his chest and whispered into his ear, trying to calm him.

"Mr. Creed, nothing is ever so simple. It is a culmination of many things that have prevented you both from having children. All I am saying is that I would like you to participate in the treatment for the best results." Ari tried to backtrack on her words, realizing she needed to be cautious about what she said for the first time since meeting the Creeds.

Creed gave a snort but continued to glare at her.

The appointment continued with a demonstration of administering the shots. After Emma received hers, Patel drew another syringe and asked Creed to step up to the patient table. Before she could inject him however, he grabbed the needle from her and growled defensively. Ari did not protest, only bit down on her tongue and frowned. Victor dragged his pants low and jabbed the needle into his own hip, hissing as the drug made its way through his body. He slammed the syringe into the hazardous materials box then stalked back to his seat.

oooooooo

Emma was finishing up in the washroom, Birdy was sitting on the couch wrapped in a comforter and reading one of her trashy romance novels and Victor was guzzling a glass of tap water in the kitchen. Birdy kept flicking her gaze up to him over the book cover until he asked her what the hell her problem was.

"Nothing, I'm just happy for you." She smiled irritatingly.

"Birdy," He finally asked, "What are you doin' sleepin' in my livin' room?"

It took her a minute to decide on what to tell him. He watched as she chewed her lip in thought before finally saying that she had been in the old mansion for over a week alone and she was starting to see and hear things.

"You think the place is haunted?" Creed raised an eyebrow at her and put the glass in the sink. "What are ya, two?"

"It's just eerie, is all, alright boss?" She spat then flopped down into her blankets, raising the book back up to her face to hide her anger.

"I didn't think you were such a chicken shit, is all." He teased as he made his way past her into the bedroom in the back of the apartment. Birdy stuck out her tongue to his receding back before returning to her book.

"Birdy looks pissed, what did you say to her?" Emma crept into the bedroom after him and shut the door.

"She thinks the house is haunted and spooks are runnin' amok while we're not there." He was filling up the syringes with the prescribed amount, flicking at any air bubbles that made their way into the needle. When Emma nodded without a word, he paused and looked at her incredulously. "You _believe___her?"

"I'm saying it's possible." Emma crawled across the bed to sit beside him and watched as he filled the second syringe.

"You believe in ghosts? I thought I knew you."

"Ghosts are not a far stretch of the imagination from some of the crazier things we've seen." She opened an alcohol wipe packet and cleaned a spot on her backside as Creed squinted and bent in to inject her. Emma drew in a breath through her clenched teeth, the drug burned as it entered her body.

"Well you let me know if the ghosties start botherin' you while I'm away, I'll set 'em straight." He grinned as he stood to receive his own shot. He gave a body-wracking cough once she was through and reached for the water that was sitting by his bedside.

"Sounds like you're getting sick." His wife said as she crawled under the sheets. She had her own aches and pains to contend with and didn't want a cold on top of them.

"Birdy tried ta give me cough syrup today, that crap burns just as bad as these damn shots!" He joined her and pulled her in close to him.

"Helped your cough though, didn't it?" They heard Birdy yell from the living room.

"You try that again and I'll rip yer head off!" Victor shouted back then put his head to his pillow. "This bein' sick business sucks." He muttered.

"Oh wait, you're not even that bad." Emma laughed quietly. "I would be more concerned with the gray hairs sprouting on your head and you're squinting."

The squinting didn't concern him as much as the dull and blurred vision in the periphery of his left eye. He had noticed that aging was happening at a rapid rate over the last couple of days since starting the healing factor retardant drug and was slightly concerned that he would be dead by the end of the treatment, however he didn't mention any of this to Emma. He was a rotten bastard at the best of times, but if he could do this one good thing by her and give her a kid, he felt that it would make up for everything else he had put her through.

Damn that Birdy, her thoughts were echoing in his head again from that night's glow session. He wasn't one for talks but after his 'therapy session' with her, she tried assuaging his worries while he was in his most vulnerable state. Babies and good deeds were still swirling through his brain as he drifted off to sleep.

ooooooo

Two weeks had passed swiftly and they were sitting in Dr. Patel's book lined office again, among the dark cherry wood furniture. Creed was wheezing slightly and wearing a pair of drug store reading glasses on the top of his head for quick access. His joints were stiff, his hair had gone completely gray and Emma had quickly caught on that he no longer had sight in his left eye.

Emma was holding up slightly better, her hair was streaked gray and she walked a bit slower. She held her back a lot when standing and she seemed to need naps in the middle of the day.

Ari was staring at the pair of them, a look of shock on her face. "It's only been two weeks." Was all she could say at the change.

"Two weeks without healing factors." Creed tried to growl but it only produced a cough.

"I didn't expect this – I didn't expect you both to be so…"

"Old?" Emma raised a graying eyebrow. She hated the wrinkles under her eyes and nothing she did could effectively cover them up.

"I can't imagine you're still ovulating, Mrs. Creed." Patel finally said, realizing she may have ruined their chance, at least for now, to have a child.

"If I am, it won't be for much longer." She wrapped her cardigan around her, she was cold again.

"I need to apologize to you both. I should have known this could happen when I read how long you had been married, it's just that I've never dealt with mutants with healing factors that were as old as you both."

"What are you sayin'?" Creed's cranky factor had increased exponentially with his aging but he was more annoying than deadly as of late. He flexed his arthritic fingers, the claws still glinting maliciously.

"We can't continue. Emma will never survive carrying the child, and that's even if she can still conceive. It's very dangerous." Dr. Ari Patel looked at them both with a look of deep regret and sorrow etched into her face.

"Why can't we just start over and take the stuff for half the time?" He didn't want to know that he was in this decrepit state for nothing.

"The treatment needs to be taken for a full two weeks, your healing factors need to be completely suppressed or else it won't work." Patel tried to explain.

The silence was long and unbroken. Creed watched Emma and Emma stared off into space as her eyes welled up with tears. She gave a giant sniff then wiped her cardigan sleeve over her eyes.

"Okay."

"Em?" Victor stood up after his wife, a pronounced hunch as gravity pulled him down.

"I knew this wouldn't work." She sniffled and cleared her throat. "How do we get back to normal then?" Emma clutched his soft, clawed hand. She felt pressure as he squeezed back.

"Stop with the injections, and come see me in one week." Patel quietly responded, clearly not expecting the bad news to be received so calmly.

Emma nodded and left the office. Victor stared down at the doctor with an accusatory look before following suit. He had no idea that he would feel as deep a disappointment as he did while walking out to the street and hailing a cab as Emma clutched his hand.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sabretooth and Birdy belong to Marvel, all others are of my own creation.**

Reviews and constructive criticism welcome. 

Creed has insisted that they leave nearly immediately after getting back to their apartment. Emma tried to remind him of the appointment they had in a week but he only roared in response before being overcome with a coughing fit that forced him to slump on to the bed. If he was going to feel like crap, he would feel like crap in the comfort of his own home. He demanded Birdy pack up their things while Emma sat with the laptop to find them a flight home.

The next available flight wasn't until close to midnight, which gave them nine hours to kill before needed to be at the airport. This annoyed him but instead of taking it out on Emma, who had no control over the events of the day, he left them and shambled down the hallway on the way to the elevators for some fresh air and a corned beef sandwich from the place down the block.

He was out of breath by the time he slumped into a booth by the window and he snapped at the waitress to bring him a coffee and a sandwich when she tried to hand him a menu. His scowl deepened as he waited for her to return.

"What is your problem?"

Creed's eyes snapped open under the gray, bushy eyebrows. He hadn't heard Birdy approach him at all. He could not wait to get this crap out of his system.

"What?"

"You heard me." She sat across from him, much like a few weeks ago. "I get it, you're old and decrepit, but what the hell has crawled up your ass that you're yelling at Emma? Don't you think she's having a hard enough time with this?"

He could only blink at her but she must have skimmed his thoughts because before long she was grabbing him by his sideburns and yanking him close, shouting about how being angry about wasted time and making himself vulnerable for the frail wasn't a good answer. He flailed and pulled away out of her grasp, ashamed at how weak he was now, unable to fight her off effectively.

His sandwich came but he no longer felt like eating. Creed pushed it towards Birdy and continued to scowl while looking out the window. Birdy took a big bite so that her cheeks were puffed up like a squirrel's. She swallowed then said, "You wanted a kid, didn't you?"

He grunted and grabbed the second half away from the plate to avoid answering. There was the perfect amount of mustard and sauerkraut and started to wonder if Emma would be able to replicate the sandwich back at home.

"Stay on topic. I swear you have ADHD." Birdy gave a threatening glare, reading his mind again.

"Stay outta my head!" He grabbed her throat and squeezed but he still wasn't strong enough to do much harm, though he tried. She bent his pinky back until he made a noise of pain and let go. "When I'm better, I'm gonna make you hurt." He promised.

"Emma. Babies. Talk." Birdy took another bite, her face hiding any fear she might have at that moment.

"No. This is still my show, girlie. I pay you and I'm tellin' ya t'shut the hell up. What this is, is my business, not yours. Stay out o' my head and keep yer mouth _shut_!" His clawed index finger pointed unwaveringly in her face and he thanked his stars that his body didn't deliver a tremor at the moment. "And leave the pickle, it's mine."

They finished the lunch plate in angry silence before heading back to the apartment.

ooooooo

"The nerve o' that lady." Victor was still grumbling as they walked through the busy airport.

"You're an old man, she was just trying to help." Emma replied distracted as she looked for their gate on the signs hanging from the ceiling.

"Do I look like I need a wheelchair, ta you?" Both Birdy and Emma replied in unison that yes, he did. That shut him up for the next few minutes.

They made their way slowly as both of them no longer owned a walk quicker than a light stroll, Birdy constantly ahead of them and doubling back when she realized she was walking too fast. Their gate was nearly at the end of the long corridor and they were happy to find three seats together in the waiting area. Creed sent his assistant to the bookstore to find him something to do during the five hour flight ahead of them.

"How you doin'?" He finally grunted at Emma.

"I'll be better once I'm back to normal." She closed her eyes and lay her head on his shoulder.

"Not what I meant." He replied.

"I really don't want to talk about it."

"Good, neither do I." He grumped and they waited for the plane to board.

ooooooo

"Are you going to ask him today?" Birdy moved toast from the toaster and began buttering them to put on the tray.

It had been nearly a month since they returned. The phone calls from Dr. Patel's office had finally ceased when they went unanswered and Emma was feeling much like her old self again. She plated the large portion of bacon and eggs beside the toast and poured a glass of orange juice.

"I think so." Emma picked up the large envelope and the tray and headed up to the bedroom with Birdy's good luck wishes following her. She opened the door quietly but a pair of green eyes were already following her. Victor's left black eye was now back to normal thanks to the surge from his healing factor that had returned him to normal within five days of their return home. He had been watching her a lot since New York, but never saying anything.

Emma put the tray down on the low coffee table situated in a corner of their bedroom and approached the bed with the envelope. "Morning." She smiled, trying to butter him up.

"Hey, you're up early." He had, as usual, migrated over to her side of the bed some time in the night, which is where he now lay.

"I brought you breakfast."

"Uh-huh. What's in the envelope?" Something was up and he knew it.

"I have some papers for you to sign." Emma knew there was no beating around the bush, it was always best to spit it out than to hide things with him. He would find out eventually. He waited for her to continue. "I've been looking into becoming a foster parent, that's why I've been out a lot of the day…"

Creed sat up and she could see he was biting back something angry inside him, trying to find a compassionate voice that she knew he didn't possess. "I'm not raising a kid that ain't my own."

"I've gone to all the trouble of these classes and filling out all this paperwork, I just need your signature." Emma looked down at the envelope in her hands, running her nail along the flap.

"These kids would have problems, I don't want crazy screamin' brats running around my house – "

"They don't typically have problems. They're just kids that are taken out of environments that aren't safe or healthy for them."

"They ain't _my_ kids."

"We're not talking about adopting them."

"We will be in two months time, I guarantee that." Creed pushed the covers away and went to pick at the bacon on the tray she brought up for him.

"Victor!" Emma stood angrily.

"Victor, what?" His eyes flashed white in frustration. "Gimme one good reason, one good fucking reason."

Emma held the documents to her chest but said nothing.

"Well?" He pressed. Emma threw the papers to the corner and stormed out of their bedroom while Creed tried not to watch her.

ooooooo

Birdy had left the foster care papers on his desk which he had ignored. Every time he tried to throw them out they found their way back on to his keyboard. It was raining out, the girls would be soaked by the time they got home from their ladies night out on the town.

Creed sat back in his desk chair with the lamp light on, rubbing his eyes, trying to focus. He had finally bothered to read the document. In fact, he had read it twice. Now he was trying to decide whether he could find it in himself to have patience and understanding of a kid who didn't belong to him, living underfoot, possibly crying most of the time, or worse, being a complete brat.

It still managed to surprise him how much he actually cared for Emma, in moments like these when he considered doing a completely unselfish act that may threaten to be a bane of his existence, all to make her happy.

He rocked back and forth, staring at nothing in the corner of his office. His computer screen was black from falling asleep so he jiggled the mouse to wake it up, only to go back to staring off into space again.

Finally the garage door hummed to life and Birdy's BMW pulled in out of the rain. They were laughing as they opened the door to the foyer, loaded with shopping bags and a cake from a well loved confectionary in the heart of downtown. Creed met them in the darkened hall with the papers in hand and a pen.

Emma looked up a bit startled but Birdy took the hint and went to put the cake away in the fridge.

"Have fun?" He grunted, not interested in the answer. "I got some ground rules." A wave of the papers answered Emma's questioning look. "Keep the kid quiet and out of our things. I'm willing to be reasonable, but if I don't like it, they go back immediately. Don't ask me to treat 'em like my own."

She had approached slowly while he had listed his conditions for signing the papers. Once he was done, she leapt into his arms, which he took as an agreement. Birdy then came out of the kitchen beaming with a knife covered in icing.

"Don't make me regret this, either of you." Victor barked and let Emma down softly as she ran over to her friend to giggle and serve cake. He sighed, alone, and put his name to the papers then left them on the end table of the foyer and went to get some dessert.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sabretooth and Birdy belong to Marvel, all others are of my own creation.**

Reviews and constructive criticism welcome. 

Creed didn't pursue many jobs during the holiday season. It had less to do with any generous nature he might possess and more to do with his hatred of crowds and canceled flights. He was stalking around the mansion somewhere but Emma had lost track of him. She was on the computer in the office searching for that year's charitable organization to donate to on Victor's behalf. It had become a tradition that every year a local charity would benefit from a lump sum donated to them on behalf of the sociopathic mercenary. Creed refused to have anything to do with it but saw that it made his wife happy to give his hard earned money away and so turned a blind eye. Until one year when along with the letter thanking him for his donation was a note that there was now a tree planted with a plaque thanking him in the yard of the Children's Hospital. Emma out did herself the next year when he discovered that he had donated enough money to a women and children's shelter to earn a new recreation room named after him. This year he had demanded that the donation be anonymous and she had every intention of disobeying.

The banging of pots and pans in the kitchen distracted her for a moment, Birdy was busy with holiday baking, as evidenced by the swearing and smell of burnt cookies. Emma heard the stomping coming up the hall followed by the opening and slamming of the front door. Creed had left the premises. She swung around in her chair and changed the security camera view, watching him pull on his coat and head to the gates. Instead of the conventional way of exiting, by the door set inside the right gate, he pulled himself up and vaulted over the tops, missing the spikes by inches and landing in a crouch on the sidewalk outside.

Emma returned to the computer and changed her tab on the browser. She was suddenly in a Toys r Us window, her wishlist full of stuffed animals and colourful educational toys. Creed had been the one to receive the call from Child & Family Services about the approval of her foster parent status. It came in the evening while all three of them were unwinding in the living room by the fire. Birdy and Emma had just finished decorating the house for the season while he had supervised with a cigarette dangling from his lips and a scotch on the rocks in hand. Creed picked up the receiver and grunted into the phone a few times then hung up, but he didn't actually tell her that the phone call had been for her until they were getting into bed.

Any day now she might get a call asking her to take a child into her home and she wanted to have gifts ready to welcome them, the problem was, what age to buy for. Another crash from the kitchen pulled her to her feet to follow the racket.

"Birdy, what exactly are you making that involved banging around like that?" Emma pushed through the swinging door. Birdy was holding her right hand under the tap and gritting her teeth.

"I burned my hand on the stove." She spat angrily at herself.

"Your cake looks perfect." The blonde muttered a thank you and continued to soak her burns. "Why don't I make some tea?" Emma flipped the kettle switch on and pulled out two mugs from across the kitchen. Birdy slumped into a chair at the table in front of the wide window overlooking the backyard and took the steaming mug from her friend when it was offered.

"I keep over cooking the sugar cookies." She scrunched her nose and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

"They're still edible."

"Mister Creed won't eat them if they're over cooked."

"Mister Creed doesn't like sugar cookies to begin with." Emma gave her a quizzical look.

"Are you telling me I've been baking these things every year for no reason?" Birdy shot up in her seat in loud despair.

"Sorry." Emma and Birdy both took sips and looked out the window, only to see the man in question stalking across the snow covered lawn in his big winter boots and down jacket, hands stuffed in his pockets and a great scowl on his face. He didn't acknowledge being watched from inside and disappeared from view as he hopped over the other side of the stone wall marking off the property.

"What's his problem?"

"Stir crazy I would imagine. You know he doesn't go out much these days."

"He needs a hobby, it makes me so nervous when he creeps around the place like this." Birdy tapped the table with her nails. "What did he get me for Christmas?"

"I'm not telling you." Emma laughed.

"I'm just asking because I would hate to get him the exact same thing." This made the joke funnier as there was little chance of that happening.

"You'll just have to wait, or read his mind."

"In that case, I'll wait."

"Would you two shaddap!" Came a roar from inside the house. They hadn't heard a door open or close, let alone Creed's earth shaking stomps. It was unnerving indeed when he was in these moods.

oooooo

Dinner was just about ready and Emma was checking her phone. One missed message. She dialed her code then pressed the phone between her ear and shoulder as she knelt by the tree and pushed some new gifts under the branches while Victor dozed lightly on the leather couches.

He was awaken by a squeal which left his heart beating in his throat. Creed stared at his wife in confusion, only to be met with a giant smile as she jumped into him, crushing his larynx in a death grip hug. He dug his claws into her back lightly to get her to release him.

"What?" He cleared his throat and knocked her to the ground, missing the coffee table by a foot.

"They have some kids for us." Emma waved her phone at him in glee, like this would help him understand.

"_Kids_?" His green eyes narrowed. She tried to curry his good favour by crawling back into his lap but he pushed her back down.

"They didn't say much in the message but it sounds like they're three brothers. Aren't you always saying you don't split up families?" Emma's face took on an irritable quality.

"No. I've never said that." He growled back. They continued to stare at each other even after Birdy walked into the room to announce dinner in a tiny voice, aware that she had walked in on something.

Creed snorted finally, stood up and pushed Birdy out of his way as he marched to the kitchen. Emma and Birdy exchanged glances as she was helped up off the floor.

"What was that about?" Whispered the blonde as they walked the length of the hallway to follow him.

"We have some kids arriving in the next few days." Emma replied resolutely.

"Oh." Birdy responded knowingly. "How many exactly?"

"Three." She said firmly as she walked past Victor, already seated at the table and half way through his plate of mashed potatoes and steak. They glared at each other from across the table while they ate, leaving Birdy to have a lonely conversation by herself for most of the meal.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sabretooth and Birdy belong to Marvel, all others are of my own creation.**

Reviews and constructive criticism welcome. 

Victor was in his den, his claws dug deeply into the arms of his chair and a smoldering cigar in the ashtray to his left. There were kids in his home, he could smell them. He had yet to see anyone since he locked himself away after breakfast but from their scent he could tell that one was very young and one was very angry.

Birdy was standing outside his door, debating whether to knock, he could smell her apprehension and the French perfume he had brought back for her three months ago. "Come in." He growled at her. The doorknob turned softly and his assistant poked her head in.

"Would you like something to eat, boss?" She asked the back of his head.

"What time is it?" Creed finally shrugged out of his stupor and rubbed his eyes with his palms.

"Four. I'm starting dinner for the kids. Emma's getting their rooms set up." Her head continued to poke through the door, reticent to enter his space any more.

"Naw." There were questions hanging in the air mingling with the cigar smoke that curled up from the lit tip.

"They seem well behaved. The middle kid has an attitude to rival your own, but they seem nice."

"They got names?" He grunted.

"Yeah, you should come find out for yourself." The door clicked shut and he could hear her padding away from the den. Little bitch. He couldn't help but curl his lip in a grin at the audacity she had sometimes.

ooooooo

Birdy had left his dinner tray outside the den door anyway. Creed had eaten the steak and left everything else then returned the tray to the floor but she never returned to pick it up. Dessert never arrived either. Finally opening the door and deciding to spend the rest of the evening in his room, he stepped around the tray and glanced at the grandfather clock on his way down the hall. It was close to seven. He couldn't hear them, but his nose told him everyone was upstairs.

Quietly he ascended the stairs and turned right. The bedroom door was wide open and the TV was on. There were six steps to walk up to reach the bedroom, giving illusion to it being its own wing, and once up them, Creed watched the three blond heads lost in the cartoon they were watching as they sat on his bed in pyjamas.

Emma approached him and smiled, wrapping her arm around his. "Hey, haven't seen you all day." She whispered, the kids still hasn't registered his presence. "Gren is nine," she pointed at the one wearing glasses, "Freddy is seven," was the one with a blackened bruise under his right eye, "and Alex is three."

"Why are they here?" Creed growled.

"There's a TV in here." Emma sighed. "Come meet them." The look on his face told her that she could go to hell. A commercial came on and the spell was broken and suddenly young eyes were on them. The little one began to cry. "You've scared him."

"I didn't _do_ anything!" Victor roared after her as she went to hush Alex, making him cry harder. The three-year-old reached out to her trustingly and let himself be picked up by his wife, while the other two boys watched him wide-eyed.

"Don't scare my brother!" Shouted the one with the fat bruise under this eye, his face took on a stubborn quality. Creed's eyes narrowed but he was silent.

"I think it's time for bed." Emma murmured and pushed Gren and Freddy off the bed and towards the door where Victor stood menacingly. Freddy made sure to stick out his tongue as he walked by, but the older one, Gren, just looked up at him. She carried Alex out and shut the door behind her.

It was half an hour before she returned to the bedroom, and he was stretched out on the bed in his boxers, surfing the channels with one arm cocked behind his head. They glared at each other but Emma could think of nothing to berate him for, it was true, he hadn't actually done anything.

Emma pulled her shirt up over her head and off, then shimmied out of her jeans. Tired, she crawled into bed in just her underwear and pulled the covers up over her. He watched her, enjoying the body heat she gave off.

"So what's their deal?" He grunted and flipped to a cop show while turning down the volume.

Emma shook her head first, trying to decide what to tell him. "The parents were arrested for drug trafficking." A moment of quiet and then in disbelief, "They lived two blocks from here."

"Now tell me the part you haven't said yet."

"No." She looked up at him.

"That bad, huh?" Creed pushed the covers down from beneath him and pulled them up and around himself to find skin contact with her.

"Worse." Emma muttered and curled around him for comfort. They were quiet for a while, watching the TV, wrapped in each other.

"You happy now?" He whispered into her ear as the show ended. Emma didn't reply. Creed adjusted his arm under her head and sighed. "You ain't happy, then?"

"I don't know what I am. I don't really feel anything."

He grunted in response, turning back to the TV. "You're gonna drive me crazy, woman. You want kids, you don't want kids, you get kids, you don't care about kids…"

"I care," she jabbed her finger into his side irritably, "I'm just not filled with the instinct to love and protect them as I expected. It worries me."

"It's been a day for Christ sake, give it time. I wasn't so keen on you when we first met."

"Really." It was less of a question and more of a remark. Emma lifted her head from Creed's chest and waited for him to continue.

"Honestly? I can't remember the first time we met, but you still annoy the shit outta me. You begged me for these twerps, now yer all wishy washy. Once they're gone, we ain't doin' this again."

"I hate you." She rolled away and curled up on her side of the bed facing away from him.

"I hate you too." Creed turned up the volume on the TV and went back to watching the crappy sitcom that was playing.

ooooooo

The sobbing woke him up. Not even in his own home did he ever feel safe enough to relax and sleep soundly, and he frequently woke up in the middle of the night to patrol the perimeter before settling in again. The last time he had been awakened by crying it had been Birdy and she had been in pain. This was sad sobbing followed by soft thumping of something sliding down the front stairs.

Emma was asleep beside him and didn't stir when he left the bed to investigate. The bedroom door opened with a whisper and his feet hit the soft swag carpeting of the hallway. A few steps to the staircase revealed the youngest child had escaped his room and was sliding down the last few steps and making his way to the front door in his footy pyjamas, clutching a ratted stuffed animal.

He reached for the door knob and found the door wouldn't open so began reaching for the deadbolt, missing it by inches. He sniffled and wiped at his eyes with a pudgy hand then tried again. Creed had silently made his way down the stairs and was sitting on the bottom few waiting with his claws fingers laced together between his knees.

Alex leaned into the front door and crouched down in defeat. Finally taking notice of the large beast at the foot of the stairs made him cry. "I want my mommy." He wailed at Victor as his bum hit the floor. When he couldn't elicit a response from Creed, he started pounding his little fists on the hardwood floor and repeated his demand.

He finally quieted as he run out of steam and smooshed his stuffed animal into his face to catch his breath.

"You finished?" Creed grunted at him, never having moved from his spot on the stair.

Alex hiccupped in response and stared back over the fur of his friend with reddened eyes. "You're scary." Came his little voice.

"You don't even know me." He leaned in and growled back.

"You look scary." Alex amended.

Creed thought about this a moment. "It's so I can keep the monsters away." He winked as if letting the child in on a secret. Alex looked around and down the hall, getting spooked by shadows, then crawled up to Victor, and popped up between his legs for protection in his arms. They looked at each other for a full minute. Alex had blue eyes. "Go back to bed."

Getting up, he towered over the three-year-old who only stared back at him wide-eyed. Realizing the kid wasn't about to budge, Creed bent down to pick him up but Alex shrank away. "If you don't want me pickin' you up, I suggest you get yer ass up the stairs now."

The kid coughed back some tears and started to amble up the staircase on all fours. His furry friend fell out of his grasp and tumbled back down, where Creed grabbed it and handed it back. Alex reached out to retrieve it, never taking his eyes off of his. "Get!" Victor ushered him on until they were all the way to the top. Now the boy has officially started to cry again as he stood in the hallway. Creed's head dropped back and let out a groan then stomped to one of the doors down the left wing of the hallway and pushed it open, waiting for Alex to run in, having found his room again. "Now stay here until someone comes and gets you in the mornin'. I mean it!"


	9. Chapter 9

**Sabretooth and Birdy belong to Marvel, all others are of my own creation.**

Reviews and constructive criticism welcome. 

Birdy was surprised to find Mister Creed sitting at the breakfast table waiting for the bacon to be served. Emma had gotten her way after all. She had heard them yelling at each other from her bedroom down the hall an hour earlier, a not uncommon occurrence, but it was rare that Emma won the arguments.

Creed glared and bared his teeth at her when he caught her staring at him. Gren, Freddy and Alex were seated along the length of the table, an open seat for her beside Alex, and Emma was pouring orange juice for everyone.

"I don't like you." Freddy blurted out, catching Mister Creed's attention away from her. The kid had an attitude to be sure. His face was scrunched in obstinace at him.

"I don't like yer face." Victor shot back and glared just as hard back at the boy.

"Victor." Emma looked up as a warning then went back to pouring juice.

"He keeps monsters away." Alex informed the table while sloppily eating from his bowl of cereal.

"He is a monster you idiot." Freddy stuck his tongue out at his sibling.

"Hey!" Gren finally spoke up and slapped his brother's arm. Gren was very quiet. Birdy had noticed he liked to watch and listen more than participate. He seemed a lot older than his nine years and there was something secretive about him that she didn't dare breach, knowing she would not like what she found.

"He's a good monster then." Alex decided. With the attention of a child, the subject was changed lightening quick. "Will Santa know we're here?"

Freddy began to grumble but listened curiously as Emma fumbled for an answer. "He should, I emailed him and everything." Birdy smiled at her, knowing that Emma had emailed Mister Creed with some gift ideas.

Everyone was seated at the table now and Creed made sure to have the first crack at the bacon. Birdy grabbed some toast and began spreading jam on it. She felt a mental jab to her mind and let Emma poke in.

"_Christmas shopping this afternoon?"_

"_Are you really going to leave Mister Creed here alone with the kids?"_

"_You think it's a bad idea?" _Emma was a pro at mental conversations, she didn't give any hint to being occupied and her face never changed with habitual facial expressions that came from talking.

"_I think he's going to put you through a wall when you get back, if not before hand."_

"I got stuff to do today." Mister Creed grunted from the end of the table.

"Can you take the kids with you?" Birdy watched Emma rest her chin on her hand, hoping the response would be appropriate for children's ears.

Thankfully he only laughed until his eyes watered. His fist hit the table, disrupting everyone's plates.

"Please?" Emma sipped her coffee.

"Get Birdy t'do it."

"Birdy and I are going shopping."

"Tough shit, take 'em with you."

Birdy felt the tension rise in the room, not from her employers, but from the children, which she then relayed to her friend mentally. Emma tried to recover and asked if the boys wanted to come shopping with her that afternoon, but the damage was done. They all felt unwanted.

"I wanna go with Monster." Alex pointed a pudgy finger at Creed. The table was quiet. Emma shrugged at her husband asking if it was alright.

"Fine." He hunched over his plate again and forked some egg into his mouth.

ooooooo

Birdy had asked Gren where he wanted to go first in the mall and found herself sitting in a chair in the bookstore while he walked through a stack of fiction novels.

Emma has taken Freddy and they headed off in another direction, hoping for some one on one talk.

"See anything ya like?" Birdy smiled as Gren passed her. He was gripping a book in his hands and standing looking lost.

"I don't have any money." He replied quietly. Birdy held her hand out and he gave her the book.

"Well I need to get you a present anyway." She winked as he smiled bashfully.

"Thanks."

"Thanks nothing, you made my life so much easier. But you can't have it until Christmas, I have to wrap it and you have to act surprised." They got in line at the front counter.

"So you work for Mr. and Mrs. Creed? Like a maid or something?" Birdy was happy he was relaxing and opening up.

"Yeah, sort of. I work for Mister Creed, I'm his assistant. Emma's more my friend." The line moved slowly forward.

"What do you assist him with?" Gren pushed up his glasses.

"Scheduling, booking flights, booking jobs mostly." Birdy said absently, looking over and around people to see how many tellers were open.

"So what does he do?" This brought her back to attention and she thought a moment and gave a few false starts.

"I'm not really sure what to tell ya."

"So it's either really boring and you aren't too sure I'll understand, or it's something awesome like he's a secret agent." Gren was a lot smarter than he looked at nine, Birdy thought.

"It's more like the secret agent one, except not awesome."

"He's a mutant."

"The claws gave it away, huh?" She grinned at him. He gave a noise indicating he would think about all of this and talk to her later about it. "Listen kid, I'm just the help, if you want to know answers to stuff, you'll have to ask Emma."

"Why can't I ask Mister Creed?" They were finally at the teller paying for Gren's book.

"He might eat you for asking questions." She grabbed the bag from the cashier then wrapped an arm around the slender boy, tugging him along with her as they exited and returned to the mall. "But I have to go find him a gift now, maybe what I pick out will give you some clue as to what he does."

"I like mysteries." Gren replied satisfied.

oooooo

They were wandering the food court when Freddy ran over to them, or more specifically, ran over to Gren, and started babbling about the video game console Emma had bought for them and the games they could play with it.

Birdy waved at Emma, who was waiting by the giant fireplace, their meeting point. She tried to steer the boys in the right direction before giving up and leaving them to argue over whether books were boring or not.

"How'd it go with Freddy?" She slumped against the wall, no seats available.

"Alright. He told me he didn't like me but I think we're on the same page and understand that he needs to curb the back talk. How about Gren?" Emma waved to the boys when they looked up and realized they were alone.

"Good. He sure does like reading. He asked what Creed does for a living. I told him to talk to you."

"That'll be a fun question to answer."

"You didn't get _me_ a book, didja?" Freddy came up and asked her.

"No, I got you a lump of coal." Birdy replied, making it clear she was joking and making a point at the same time.

"Okay good, I don't like books."

"Birdy won't tell me what Mister Creed does as a job." Gren looked at Emma. Everyone waited with baited breath for her answer.

"He takes care of us."

"That's not an answer." Freddy piped up.

"It's all the answer you're going to get, pal." Emma pushed herself up straight from against the wall and pointed them forward so they could finish their holiday shopping and return home for dinner.

ooooooo

Mister Creed was standing in the hallway knocking off his boots with Alex tucked under his arm when they arrived home. Alex was giggling incessantly with his arms spread wide like he was flying, still in his winter coat and mittens.

"Take this." He handed the boy to Emma.

"Did you have fun today?" She asked as she gave him a big hug. Birdy cleared the bags away from the door and picked up the coats that were littering the hallway.

"Yes! I saw Santa!"

"Oh the excitement!" Emma feigned surprise and put Alex to the ground so she could take off her boots.

"Where did you two go?"

"Hey! No fair questioning the kid." Creed interrupted grumpily and grabbed his bags to lock them away from his wife. Birdy felt the swell of good spirits surround her and she got Gren to help her bring their bags up the stairs. They would wrap them all later after dinner.

"Hungry?" She asked as hen dropped the bags on her bed, to which he nodded.

"We're ordering Chinese!" Emma shouted from the level below.

"Why don't you go downstairs and help choose dinner." Birdy walked out with him but waited at the top of the steps until Mister Creed emerged from his bedroom. "You had a good day." She wasn't asking.

"Kid's a pain in the ass." He grunted in response.

"Gren's been asking what you do for a living."

"You tell him I eat little children?" They descended the stairs.

"I did actually." She replied making him chuckle.

"Good."

"Emma said you take care of us."

"Aw crap. I'm not some goody-goody." He pushed the swinging door into the kitchen to see the trio of blond haired boys bent over an order form for Chinese delivery.

"What do monsters eat?" Alex looked up and asked.

"Shanghai Noodles." Replied Creed and slumped into his chair at the head of the table.


	10. Chapter 10

**Sabretooth and Birdy belong to Marvel, all others are of my own creation.**

Reviews and constructive criticism welcome. 

Sabretooth sat on his haunches on the roof of his home, keeping watch in the dead of night. Snow had piled up around him over the last hour but the cold didn't bother him much anymore. He still had feeling in his bare feet and that's all that mattered.

There had been a scent in the air over the last few days, an unfamiliar smell. While it was the holiday season and many of his neighbours, mostly older couples, had their children come home which presented the whisper of a challenge, he was easily able to hone in on the smells out of place.

Someone was hunting him.

He could smell them now, watching him up on his roof, in plain sight and easy enough for a sniper to take aim. Creed had no fear. Finally, the telltale glimmer of light catching on glass gave away the hunter's location. His silhouette amongst the trees bordering the property came through clearly. Creed waited.

He could hear five sets of heartbeats in the house. Four were slow and steady in sleep, the fifth was nearing the balcony from which he had emerged to crawl up to his perch. He heard the glass door slide open and Emma's breath left her mouth in puffs of clouds.

She stuck her head out the door to look up for him when suddenly a shot rang out and she was blow back into the bedroom.

Leaping from the roof, Creed landed on the balcony as graceful as his feline namesake implied, but instead of checking on his wife, he jumped again to the ground and barreled on all fours to the stone wall closest to the intruder. The smell of his wife's blood burned his nose and spurred him on, vaulting over the wall and with eerie precision, landing on the shooter.

There was blood. Oh god was there blood. The mass of flesh Sabretooth left behind was unrecognizable as human. A master of pain and death, Creed left the poor sod breathing, if you could call it that. A brown eye, free of an eyelid, was rolling around wildly until Victor sat over him and left only an inch between his face and the ground meat of the other.

"That's why you don't bring a long-range rifle to a knife fight."

The other man quivered from shock as his blood pooled around Creed's bare feet. The eye stopped moving and looked only up into Creed's. Blood spat out of his mouth as he tried to speak, but his lungs were too perforated with claw punctures and fang bites. Sabretooth waited, unmoving, uncaring, waited until a word, then two came out.

"You…..killed…m…..ife…"

"Sorry, didn't catch that last part." Finished with his kill, Creed reached out and snapped the man's neck, letting him join his wife in whatever afterlife there might be. He left the corpse for Birdy to clean up, wanting to get back inside to warm up and see what sort of hit Emma had taken.

He reached the porch the same way he had come, then stretched up and grabbed the spare key from the eaves. He had dragged his feet through the few inches of snow to try and clean them as best he could, but still he tracked blood in to the foyer and up the stairs.

Victor enabled the property security system again and headed for the bedroom, where he found Birdy pressing a blood-stained towel into Emma's chest. She was on the floor and very pale. Her lips had turned a shade of blue and she could not focus her gaze on anything.

"How's our girl doin'?" He bent down over them both.

"She's in shock, the bullet's in her chest, I don't – we need to get her to a hospital." Birdy replied a bit breathless but totally in control.

"I'll take her." He bullied Birdy out of the way and scooped up Emma into his arms.

"You have to keep pressure on it!" Birdy replied crossly and shot up from the floor to do just that. "Just call a damn ambulance."

"It's my fault, I'll take care of it!" Creed turned and clipped her chin with his elbow to knock her back down. "You stay here with the kids, they don't the excitement."

"What if there's more?" She had a hand over her mouth now, catching blood from a bit tongue.

"It was one jerk with a personal vendetta, plus the security'll be on. Go turn it off so we can get out of here."

Resigned to her duties, Birdy left the bedroom to do as her boss asked while Creed pressed the towel down deep into Emma's wound, making her cry out in pain. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He didn't realize he was breathing the apology over and over again as he wrapped a fleece throw blanket around her before taking her down to one of the cars.

"Don't tell the cubs, we went out for a drive, got it?" He grabbed the keys from Birdy's outstretched hand as she shivered in the garage beside the junky Chevy he insisted on keeping. She nodded solemnly and stayed in place as Creed backed out and drove off through the mechanized gates, out towards the hospital.

ooooooooo

Creed sat in scrubs and paper slippers in the waiting area while Emma was in surgery to remove the bullet. It was the same hospital that not that long ago he had been in as a patient. He even recognized some of the surgery staff, they all recognized him easily. One of the nurses had actually come by with hot coffee for him and some soothing words. She remarked about his eyes now matching, then excused herself to return to her duties.

_I must look like some poor shmuck._ He thought to himself. He sat in chairs, gripping the coffee with both hands, staring at it, staring at nothing. Worrying. Hoping.

At length he waited until finally a doctor emerged, young looking, with a smile growing on his face. The news was good. Creed let out a long breath and relaxed into his seat.

Emma was still sedated but he was allowed to sit in her room with her as she recovered. Creed picked up the phone to give Birdy the word and to let her know he would be home later. It wasn't even 10 a.m.

ooooooooo

The Chevy was covered in blood. The steering wheel, the pedals, the gear shift, the backseat. Creed turned the key and started the ignition. Emma had a few days of recovery ahead of her in hospital and she had managed to guilt him into returning home instead of waiting by her side.

The drive home was start and stop as lunch hour traffic was in full swing, even at 2 p.m., but then came the part he loved best, the long, winding stretch of road up the mountain into the more affluent part of town where he lived. The streets were usually quiet and clean, tree lined, well paved. He was well aware that the Chevy didn't fit in to this neighbourhood, much like he didn't.

Creed pulled up to his security box and punched in the code to open the gates from out the driver's side window. They obliged with a whirring noise and closed behind him as he pulled into the garage.

Birdy was helping Alex into his snowsuit and mittens when he entered the foyer. They all stared at him, still wearing hospital scrubs and minus his wife. This didn't jive well with the story Birdy had given them about the Sunday drive and Gren opened his mouth to ask about the discrepancy but Creed cut him off.

"No questions." He stalked past them all and headed back to his bedroom, the boys all watching him the whole way.

Birdy had done her best, but the blood stain was still there. They would have to rip up the carpet again that year. They should really just lay down wood flooring altogether, but Emma hated cold feet. He turned to look out the window and watched as Gren and Freddy cooperate enough to begin rolling the bottom of a snowman up. Birdy was waiting for Alex to climb into a sled that had been a Christmas present from him. She was shielding her eyes from the sun and looking up at him through the glass of the balcony door.

He left his watching spot, away from her concerned eyes, and went to take a shower.

ooooooooo

The brothers were all a bit out of sorts with the absence of Emma and were hard to control. Alex would not sit still in his chair and eat the food Birdy had made for dinner, he was fussy and crying at being forced to sit with the rest of the table. Victor had yet to come down to eat himself, so Birdy was left to try and instill some sort of authority. They were not having any of it.

"What is all the noise?" The kitchen door slammed back into the wall. It would have left a sizable dent if there hadn't already been one from all the previous times Creed had kicked it open in a temper.

The boys sat up, leaning away from the door wide-eyed.

"It's okay guys." Birdy said softly, trying to get their attention back to dinner.

"No, it's not okay – you don't want to eat the food we put in front of you, you can go starve!" Creed's bellow echoed down the hallway into the mansion. Alex began to cry harder and louder, his breath hitching as he hiccupped intermittently. "Shut up!" The table shook as he bore down on it in front of the three-year-old. He could smell urine and snot.

A piercing pain entered his side, forcing him to lift and arm and find a butter knife shallowly impaled into his stomach, Freddy on the other end, looking angry and frightened at the same time, realized his attack had little effect on Creed. Victor reached down while watching the boy with a scowl on his face, and removed the cutlery from his person, then slammed it down on the table, covering dinner with droplets of his blood.

"Go to your room." He gave the order calmly and both of the older boys scurried from their seats and around the table to grab Alex. "Leave. Him."

Gren spoke up this time. "No." Alex wiggled out of his seat and ran around to his brothers, his crying quieter but still annoying. Creed moved from the table and grabbed Alex with a swift motion, holding him in an uncomfortable position which seemed to express his lack of parental instinct.

"Get upstairs before I make you sleep on the porch!" Another barked order. Birdy snapped out of her own fear and grabbed the boys by their wrists, dragging them out of the kitchen before he could get angry enough to hit one of them.

Alex strained against him, urine was getting on Creed's pants and shirt. Irritated, he gave the boy a quick shake to get him to quit. Alex went ragdoll on him, allowing Creed to tuck him under his arm and carry him upstairs. The quiet helped him uncoil inside, and he felt calm again, if still a little irritated.

Taking the stairs two at a time meant he was on the heels of the other two brothers as Birdy was shutting the doors on them. She turned to watch him as he passed and flicked on the light of the main washroom on the second floor. She stood in the door watching.

Creed put Alex down and stood him in the corner facing it. He told him to stay there and not to make a sound. He continued to ignore her as he plugged the tub and ran some water.

"Mister Creed, do you want me to do that?" She finally spoke up. Creed's response was a set scowl and kicking the door shut on her. Alex shivered in the corner.

"Now come take a bath, yer covered in snot." He sat on the wooden toilet seat and watched the boy slowly comply, wrestling with his shirt over his head. Creed tried to help with as little involvement as possible until it was clear that Alex would need to be lifted into the tub to avoid hurting himself. Creed obliged.

Alex sat in the tub, doing nothing except pushing water around with his hands. Victor grabbed a wash cloth and threw it at him, which he only used as a toy in the water.

"Give." He adjusted his seat on the toilet and soaked the washcloth. Steadying Alex by cradling the back of his head, Creed wiped the boy's face gently. "What was wrong with dinner?"

"I want hotdogs." Alex took back the cloth and returned to using as a toy.

"You don't like macaroni and cheese?"

"I do."

"So why didn't you eat yer dinner?" Creed leaned back against the tank and crossed his arms.

"I want hotdogs." Alex replied as thought it were clear as day.

"You know what I had ta eat as a kid? Rabbits. I had to catch and kill 'em myself. Didn't hear my complainin'."

"Why?"

Satisfied that Alex was clean enough, Creed grabbed a towel and plucked him out of the water. He drained the tub then lifted the boy up into his arms within the fuzzy towel, exiting the washroom with Birdy still standing outside it. "Cuz my parents didn't love me."

Birdy's eyes softened, making Victor want to hit her clear across the house, but he was distracted when Alex said, "I'll go eat dinner now."

"Naw, it's probably cold and covered in blood. We'll go have hotdogs." He muttered and told Birdy to clean up downstairs and start a second supper while he got the boy dressed in his pyjamas.


	11. Chapter 11

**Sabretooth, Wolverine and Birdy belong to Marvel, all others are of my own creation.**

Reviews and constructive criticism welcome. 

He didn't want to be near the kids. He didn't want to be around Emma at all. They were making him weak, he was losing focus, getting soft.

When people weren't afraid of him, they laughed at him. He despised their ridicule, hated them. All of them. He had learned at an early age that people were only a source of pain. He couldn't understand how people found each other and kept each other for so long. He didn't understand how his own marriage was still together, how he had not managed to kill his wife, how no one else had managed to kill her to spite him.

People were awful and cruel and useless. If he didn't get attached, he couldn't be hurt.

Creed continued in this manner as he tore through trees and ripped out boulders in his path. He was in Colorado burning through his anger after his kill has been all too easy. Business was over, it was time to play and he was looking for a fight. He wished the runt were here to get in his way, at a time like this, he was a brick wall, able to ram through any pain the boy could throw at him, then let the blood fly over the snow in beautiful twisted patterns.

But the runt was not here. He was alone in his fury with no way to properly expel it. He would hunt. Whatever prey got in his way would feel the brutality he had within him. He would make everyone stop laughing at him.

oooooooo

"He's still not answering his cell phone." Emma sighed and pushed back into the couch in the living room. Birdy was finishing packing up the Christmas decorations and nodded at her.

The house was quiet. Child Services had been in the day before to collect the boys to take them to a permanent home. While Emma felt a tinge of disappointment, she was happy that they would not be split up. They had packed the boys up and said goodbyes. Alex would miss his Monster and she had promised to tell Victor that the boy expected him to visit.

Where he was now, she had no clue. Creed should have returned by now and the unanswered messages made her nervous. She would try the phone again tomorrow and if it was dead, she would begin her search for him.

Birdy stood up from over a cardboard box and stretcher her back. "You know, as lovely as they were, I really hope you and Creed don't have kids."

Emma just looked at her tiredly, trying to decipher what the woman was actually saying. "You don't think being a father suits him?" She rubbed absently at her chest. It had been a week since she had returned home and her healing factor was working diligently, but the scar still remained for now.

"I think I was honestly frightened for their safety a few times." She tapped the box she had been working in then went to sit across from Emma on the opposite couch. "I don't think he was ever meant to be near people."

"I think you're arguing that Victor is inherently bad." Emma's defenses were creeping up slowly, but was still willing to travel this conversation.

"Did you know Mister Creed had a brother?" Emma shook her head curiously but Birdy continued on regardless. "He killed him when he was seven or something….over a piece of pie. This was _before_ he was chained up in the cellar. He wasn't _made_ into a heartless prick, he was one to begin with."

Emma sat and thought about this. When it was apparent that she would not answer her friend, Birdy stood and asked if the other wanted a beer.

"No thanks, I'm pregnant."

ooooooo

There wasn't any need for the search party. Victor slunk into the house close to the early morning sunrise, smelling of the wild. He had bloodied claw marks across his scalp, effectively shearing off his hair on the right side. His clothing hung hap hazardously from his body, which was marred with healing bruises and now-shallow stab wounds. He limped up the stairs on the healing remnants of a shattered leg and laboured breathing of a collapsed lung.

With some work his wish had come true. If the runt wouldn't come to him, he would have to go find him. The scrap had been marvelous and both their blood now covered some New York alleyway. He managed to rip half of Wolverine's face off in a spectacularly reckless move that had paid off. It had been a long time since he had heard the runt scream like that.

In the alley as he was crawling away to go steal a car for the drive back to Vancouver, he made sure to thank the runt for the wonderful evening. Wolverine responded with a 'fuck you' that made him chuckle.

Now he was home and spent. The last few steps took all of his energy. Emma would just have to deal with buying new sheets in the morning as he had every intention of collapsing into bed, blood and all.

Emma opened her eyes with a start when he hit the mattress. They stared at each other.

"Where are the brats?" He slurred through his exhaustion.

"Gone now." She replied quietly.

"Good. Go to sleep."

Emma watched as his eyes rolled up into his head and he passed out. His body relaxed and his breathing found a natural rhythm as his healing factor began its serious mend of his body. Two days on the road retarded his body's ability to regenerate. He needed good old fashion sleep.

ooooooooo

Creed was about to raid the fridge when he stopped. Emma was standing at the kitchen island beside him, making a sandwich for lunch. On the fridge was a finger painting of a little disfigured blond boy holding hands with a big disfigured blob of a thing with big teeth and really long fingers. They were in a field with the sun shining and a couple flowers.

"Why is this on my fridge?" He growled.

"Alex drew it for you, you weren't around to receive it so I put it somewhere you would find it." Emma murmured as she spread mayo on her bread. Creed ripped it off the door, making the magnets fly across the floor, then crumpled it up and threw in the vague direction of the garbage can.

"No more kids." He threatened then opened the fridge door.

Emma lowered her hands and stopped what she was doing and waited. Creed caught the odd behaviour and tried to figure out the problem. Ah, there is was.

"Don't worry, it'll be dead soon. The only thing a woman's good for, and you can't even do that." He cracked open a beer with his teeth and stalked out of the kitchen, leaving Emma in more pain that his claws ever could deliver.


End file.
